An Almost Full House
by ImaPseudonym
Summary: Evelyn Mercer was in a good mood.  But why? Read and find out.


Title: An Almost Full House

Author: Ima Pseudonym

Fandom: Four Brothers

Pairing: None

Rating: …G, I suppose. It's pretty darn tame.

Summary: Evelyn Mercer was in a good mood.

Notes: I know it's kind of lazy, using the first line as a summary. But I don't want to give away the story, and it suits well enough. If you've read my other 4B fics, you'll have an idea of what to expect. More notes after the fic.

Disclaimer: Belongs to Paramount.

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Evelyn Mercer was in a good mood. She had just received 'The' phone call an hour ago.

Bobby was out.

She had long since stopped flinching at the thought of her eldest (in spirit, if not blood) behind bars.

A year ago, she'd received a very different sort of phone call.

x-x-x-x

"Ma... I swear I didn't do it. You know me! I- I'm sorry." Evelyn didn't have to ask what or why. The police officers had already informed her.

x-x-x-x

Two years, the jury had decided. Probation was iffy.

She knew- Oh, Evelyn knew Bobby had done it. But when he received the sentence, his eyes sought out the white-haired woman in the cheerful blue pantsuit, and he pleaded her to forgive him with his eyes. They entreated her to accept he was innocent; it wasn't his fault; this sentence was ridiculously harsh. (But then that happened when you already had a record).

It was a lie, though. Bobby had done it. Intentionally. And he deserved punishment.

She approached the wooden railing separating them as the next case's lawyers set up.

Evelyn pursed her lips, stared him down until his shoulders slumped and then she pulled him into an awkwardly hindered hug, and buried her face in his orange-clad shoulder.

"I love you, Bobby Mercer. But if you're not out early for good behavior, you will receive such a vicious verbal lashing that you'll wish you were born without ears." she scalded, but then she kissed his forehead and let the bailiff lead her son away.

"I will Ma," he said over his shoulder. "I swear."

Of course she believed him.

She'd visited him at Christmas. Angel was in Turkey, doing Lord knows what for his country. Jerry and his wife and daughters had gone to Ohio to visit Camille's parents.

And Jackie, her baby, couldn't get the time (or, she suspected, the money) to travel to Michigan. His band was making their way through Chicago, still waiting for their big break.

So she had squared her jaw, thanked God her sons were all healthy, if not all free, and loaded up the car for a trip to Illinois to visit her legally wayward child.

She'd made enough homemade egg rolls (a Christmas tradition) to feed half of the prison, and had a row with security about taking them in.

And then she waited. Bobby 'had' a visitor already. Her suspicions were confirmed when the thin, gangly form of her twenty-two year old slouched past security. His eyes were red, and when he realized he was staring at his mother he was in her arms before he made the decision to hug her.

"Mom..." he started and she shushed him.

"You'll be here when I'm out?" she asked and he slouched further into himself. His cellphone bleated some fast rock tune she didn't recognize.

"Caleb's outside waiting. There's a gig tonight, and if we don't leave now..." she nodded, wanting to ask so many questions. Even Bobby was easier to get ahold of than Jack and she hadn't seen her youngest since the day after Bobby's first incarceration.

But now wasn't the time. She could feel the stress rolling off of him in waves. So she decisively removed her scarf (a cozy grey and black-striped affair she'd knitted on a whim when the loneliness and boredom got to be too much) and wound it around his neck.

Evelyn tried not to frown when he almost cringed away from her hands cupping his cheeks, and instead kissed his forehead.

"Merry Christmas, Jackie."

"Merry Christmas, mom." And then he was gone.

Hoisting her egg roll-laden Tupperware, she went through processing again and was led into a room not unlike a small cafeteria. Half a dozen inmates sat at the steel table/bench combinations bolted to the floor.

At the furthest table was her eldest.

Bobby didn't appear to be bruised, but that was no guarantee that he hadn't been fighting. Bobby had a bad habit of winning any fight he was in, even when the odds were stacked against him: Usually because he began them.

Evelyn set her edible gift down and smiled, but said nothing until Bobby had eviscerated one of the rolls.

"So..."

"I ain't been fighting, Ma. Some punks tried to pick a fight my first day, but- my, Uh..." he trailed off, stuffing another egg roll in his mouth.

"But your reputation proceeded you." she finished for him. Bobby's first stint had been in this very prison. Really, Illinois didn't agree with her son.

"I'll be out by next Christmas, Ma. I swear." Bits of cabbage and chicken flecked the table top.

Evelyn fought a smile.

"Did you forget how to swallow before speaking, or is it a talent learned here to do both at once?"

"Sorry." Bobby said without showering the room in home cooking. "But I will be out." he insisted. Evelyn believed him.

Of course she did.

x-x-x-x-x

"I called in a favor, Ma. You know I hate busses. But it'll be a day or two before I can pick up my car. Can-" It pained Evelyn to think her son was asking if he was still welcome in his own home.

"Bobby, if we had an old oak tree in the front yard, you know there'd be a thousand yellow ribbons tied around it."

"I'll be sure to plant one when I get back." he said at length. She read the tightness in his voice. One day, all of her boys would really and truly understand that 'home' was forever and unconditional.

"There won't ever be a need for one now." she chided, and her own throat felt constricted.

God please set him on a more peaceful path.

"No, ma'am." Bobby agreed.

"I love you Bobby Mercer." Evelyn said into the pause. Over-emoting wasn't something she did too well. In her many years of foster care she'd found that that could be as detrimental as anger or neglect.

"I love you too, mom." There were no goodbyes. You couldn't follow love up with something as insipid as 'goodbye'.

She hung up first.

The next day Jack called. His band was on hiatus. (Apparently, their drummer had started a fight with the lead guitarist. The 'Spares' had unanimously decided on a break, planning to find a replacement after New Years.)

Jackie was coming home.

Angel couldn't. He was somewhere off the coast of Alaska. Ironically enough, being the busiest and the furthest away, he was the most reliable at keeping in touch. Even Jeremiah, ten miles away, waited weeks sometimes before she got a call or a visit. She didn't resent it. He had two little girls to raise, and he made an amazing father.

An almost full house. It had been too long.

So now there was only one thing left to do. She would drown three of her boys in love and food for as long as she could, and live off of the memories in the in-between.

The wind whipped at her face, but it didn't matter that it was edging into the single digits outside. She was warm within.

Bells chimed in time with her happiness as she stepped through the door.

Even without Angel being home, she knew she had to find the biggest turkey available.

Nothing less would do for an almost full house.

END

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Yeah, I'm an evil bint. I can't believe I never posted this, though! I've had it since everything was sheeted in a dozen layers of ice. And now it's reaching the triple digits every day.

Writing from Evelyn's POV is awesome. I can get a little sappier, without feeling like I'm writing out-of-character. Which isn't to say she's a blank canvas: She may have had the least screen time of any Mercer, but she sure as Hell made her own particular impression with that time.

The yellow ribbon bit, for those who aren't familiar, is from a Tony Orlando song, called… "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'round the Old Oak Tree" (clever title, eh?). It's about a man who's just getting out of prison. He's on a bus, relating how he wrote his sweetheart back home, saying that if she still wanted him, she should 'tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree'. And if she didn't he'd stay on the bus, and keep going, out of her life for good. I HIGHLY recommend you listen to the song. Go. Go NAUGHOW! It always makes me tear up, I'll admit.

Anyway, I thought it very likely that Evelyn would have liked that song (because I fancy her tastes in music are similar to my own.) And if Evelyn liked it, her boys would have heard it.

So, yeah… I hope ya'll enjoyed the fic. Please comment to let me know what you think! Comments make my day, and I could use the good vibes.


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